The last temptation
by tear of the sun girl
Summary: She was a fallen woman, living a life of sin. He was a man of God, determined to save her soul. He wasn't prepare for the spark she ignited in him and he couldn't fuel the flame without burning alive in it. Arnold and Helga like you've NEVER seen them before. A story of lust ,love, passion and a forbidden romance. STRONG T may go M later.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The last temptation.**

**Rating: T very strong T, violence, mild language and adult themes, sexuality and anything else, you've been warned.**

**Summary: He was a man of God, full dedicated to helping the fallen see the light, She was a fallen woman who couldn't get much further down. He wasn't prepare for the spark she ignited in him and he couldn't fuel the flame without burning alive in it.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hey arnold of anything affiliated with it, all right belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon, i'm just borrowing. **

**Special Thanks to Nicole M. Tracy for designing my AMAZING cover. I couldn't have asked for a better one. I love it! thanks!**

* * *

He stood at the back of the massive church like he did every Sunday and he smiled at all the people, they shook his hands and sung his praises. He smiled back shaking their hands and offering them words of support if they needed it.

"Great sermon today Father." A lady said.

"Thank you." He smiled.

"Father, amazing sermon. Was that the arch bishop I saw in the balcony?" A man asked.

"I believe so, yes." He said smiling.

As the last person exited the church he closed the doors and turned to face Monsignor Cooper. He smiled warmly at the young preist.

"They're right of course, your sermons are unmatched." Monsignor said.

"Thank you." Arnold said with a smile.

"Word is you're up for a promotion, dare I say that I suspect I'm in the company of the next pope?" Monsignor asked.

"As much of an honor as that would be, I won't get my hopes up." Arnold said.

"My dear boy, I actually stopped by to ask you a favor." The older man said.

"Sure, you know I'd do anything for you." Arnold said.

"Well, the police came to me and since you have experience in this matter I brought it to you. There's a big case that's going to break in a few weeks time, a drug lord will be taken off the streets. They need a place to hide their eyewitness." The Monsignor said.

"And you want me to hide them?" Arnold asked.

"Well, I know you've hidden people before, abused women and even a few runaways." Monsignor said.

"Yes, I will do it. Who am I hiding?" Arnold asked.

"A young woman, she's a prostitute. Her name is Cecile France, though I doubt that's her real name. She's testifying." The Monsignor said.

"Forgive me for asking but do you think hiding a prostitute in the church is wise?" Arnold asked.

"Judge not lest thee be judged my son." The Monsignor said.

"Yes sir, I'll be glad to help." Arnold said.

"There's a good man. The police will be dropping her off sometime tonight. If you put her in the back room she should be comfortable." The Monsignor said.

"Yes sir." Arnold said.

* * *

She gazed out the window at the buildings as they slowly rolled by and took a deep breath. She checked her reflection in the window, running he fingers through her thick mass of gold colored curls. Her eyes make up was heavy brining out her blue eyes.

"Do you have any questions before we drop you off?" The cop driving asked.

"No." She said.

"We should be there any minute." His partner said from the passenger seat.

"Okay." She said.

"Don't be nervous." The one driving said.

She offered him a timid smile and went back to staring out the window. She needed to remember why she was doing this, and that it was the right thing to do. She needed to remember that this wasn't personal.

"We're here." The driver said, pulling up infront of a massive church.

She waited for the second cop to open the door letting her out of the cop car. The driver went to the trunk to retrieve her bags. She climbed out of the car her stomach in knots and her nerves a wreck.

"You ready? The cop holding her bags asked and she gave a firm nod.

"Let's go." She said.

Together the three of them walked up the steps and the first cop opened the door for her. She stepped into the church and took in everything, from the shiny wooden pews, to the aroma of candles and incense. A door opened and she saw him emerge from a back room. She knew who he was when the policemen told her, but nothing could have prepared her for that moment when she saw him for the first time in eighteen years. He was wearing black dress pants and a black button up t-shirt. His blonde hair was slicked neatly back and his eyes were still as green as grass.

"Officers, I'm Father Shortman." He said shaking each of their hands.

"Thank you for doing this Father." The cop holding her suitcase said.

"It's my pleasure, and you must be Cecile."He said, finally turning his eyes to her.

"Yes, thank you Father." She said, stepping between the two cops and lifting her chin to meet his gaze.

She knew the exact second that he recognized her, she read it on his face. His relaxed, easygoing smile dropped away and he stood openly staring. She didn't look away, she met his eyes and held her ground. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak and then he closed it without saying a word.

"She shouldn't be here long Father." The second cop said.

"Well, I have a room in the back that I use for visitors. She can stay as long as needed." Arnold said, finally finding his voice.

"Thank you, we'll be in touch." The cop holding her suitcase said.

"Of course."Arnold said.

"We can't stay any longer, if someone sees the car it will rouse suspicion." The other cop said.

"I udnerstand."Arnold said, still not looking at Helga.

The cop handed her the suitcase and they each shook Arnolds hand one more time. He walked them to the door and after they had exited he closed it. He stood there with his back to her staring at the door for what seemed like hours, finally she spoke.

"Is everything okay?"She asked.

"No, no. Everything is not okay. Cecile France? You're a..."He turned to face her trailing off.

"A prostitute."She said.

"Yes, a fallen woman. A woman of sin, of the night." He said.

"Please, Arnold don't be so dramatic." She said rolling her eyes.

"Helga, you're a whore for money!"He said.

"I know, and what a way to make a living." She said with a twisted smile.

He flushed a deep scarlett color before moving towards her. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her waist length hair. He took in her appearance. Her thigh high stiletto boots, her tight thigh high black leather skirt and her black leather halter top. He burned and even deeper shade of red if that was possible.

"Do you have anything appropriate to wear?"He asked, looking away from her.

"Yes, they picked me up from work. I don't wear these things all the time."She said.

"Fine, follow me."He said, walking away.

"Okay, so you're pissed. Why?"She asked falling in step behid him.

"Helga, you were the smartest girl in school and look what you turned into."He said.

"Look at you! Father Shortman."She said.

"When Grandma found religion I was ten, I wanted something to help me deal with my parents death. I'm proud of who I've become."He said.

"It's none of your business what I do, or why I'm here. I just need a place to stay." She said.

"You're right it's not." He said.

They walked down a long hallway that wsa on the side of the church in silence. She stared at his back, she couldn't help it. A priest shouldn't be that muscular. He motioned at a wooden door as they passed.

"My room."He said.

They walked furhter in silence and when they reached the end of the hall there was another wooden door.

"This is your room, the bathroom is between us. The kitchen is at the opposite end. I take dinner at seven, lunch at two and breakfast at seven. You may join me."He said, not looking at her.

"Thank you." She said softly, feeling guilty about how this was sprung on him.

"I'll see you at breakfast then." He said.

He turned on his heel and wandered off and she opened the door stepping into her room. There were no windows, no pictures. The walls were beige and the floor was white, a single light hung from the ceiling and a single bed was in the middle of the room. To her left was a large dresser for her clothes, to her right a small table and full length mirror.

This was all sprung on Arnold but she had known who he was, she supposed she could have asked for somewhere else but the chance to see him after eighteen years was too tempting. She sat her suitcase aside deciding to unpack in the morning. She shut her door and stripped to her red lace undies and matching bra, she climed under the blankets and soon fell asleep.

Down the hall, behind the heavy wooden door in is own room Arnold paced. Why her? of all the people he used to know? of all the whores in this town why Helga? She was brilliant as a child and flourished in highschool. When they graduated he went to join the church and ws sure she'd go to college. What happened to bring her down? He didn't know but he was determined to find out, he could save her. He had too.

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**Author Note: I know this chapter was short but I wanted it to be like a prologue. So, the next ones will be longer. I don't know when I'll get them up because I'm still finishing "Damaged" but I couldn't wait another minute to get this one started.**

**Leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: I'm sorry it's been so long but with work/school/wedding planning and etc I've been super busy. In the fall my schedule will calm down and I'll update more frequently. If you can bare with me till then I will finish all my fanfictions, including this one "Damaged" and "Dead and the hopeless" I'm so sorry it's been so long. **

* * *

When Arnold woke up he heard the music floating down the hall, it took him a minute to remember there was no a guest living with him, Helga. He climbed out of his bed and glanced at the clock, it was six thirty in the morning. He pulled on his black dress pants and a black long sleeved button up shirt. He moved silently down the hall to where the music was softly playing, a slow, dark song. Her door was open just the slightest bit and he raised his hand to knock, then he saw her.

She was sitting on the end of the bed, her back was to the door. All she was wearing was a pair of pink panties, she was brushing out her long locks of blonde hair. He froze, he knew he should leave and give her some privacy instead he stood there watching. He could see every notch and curve in her delicate spine, her creamy white skin as smooth as silk, her hips gently rounded.

His mouth was suddenly dry, and he realized his hands were shaking slightly. It was wrong to watch her, an invasion of her privacy and yet he couldn't look away. She set the brush aside and pushed her hair back from her face, it fell to her waist covering her bare back completely. He wanted to know why she chose the life she had, what happened to the brilliant girl he used to know?

He backed away from the door, making sure she didn't hear his steps. When he was safely away he turned and hurried into the kitchen.

Helga sat on her bed, her back to the door. She took a deep breath and turned her head to the door and a tear rolled down her cheek as she looked out the crack Arnold had just looked in.

* * *

Arnold made breakfast for the two of them with shaky hands and when she walked into the kitchen fully clothed, visions of bare white flesh still flashed in his mind. He swallowed passed the lump in his throat and put a plate down infront of her. He took a seat beside her.

"I hope everything tastes okay." He said.

"I'm sure it's fine." She replied, her voice holding no emotion.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked.

"Sure." She replied with a heavy sigh.

"What happened? Why are you a prostitute?"He asked.

"I knew that's what you'd ask." She said putting her fork down.

"Come on Helga, we were friends. Tell me." He pushed.

"Maybe I just like having sex."She said bluntly.

"Come on, really." He said.

"Well, I went to college and I went to the wrong party. Let's just say date rape took on a realistic meaning. After that my grades floppedand I didn't have a lot of career options anymore, I lost my house and I had to do something to make money." She said it so easily, like it was no big deal.

"Helga, I'm sorry." He said.

"Dont' cry all over me, okay? Just...don't pity me."The way she said it her voice held a warning.

She stood up before he could say anything and walked away, he watched her go wondering why she was so defensive. Helga had always been a tough girl but this bordered on pure defense. He finished his breakfast alone.

He needed to go to the store and decided to see if Helga needed anything, on his way to her room he heard her talking on a phone and he froze.

"I can't do this, no I just I can't. Please, don't make me do this." She begged the other person on the phone.

He listened, feeling guilty but not being able to stop as she bargained with the person on the phone.

"Okay, fine. Yes." She hung up with a defeated sigh.

"Helga?"He pushed the door full open and she turned to face him.

"What?" She asked.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just...I'm fine." She said, forcing a smile.

"I'm going to run to the store, do you need anything?"He asked.

"No, I might shower while you're gone. Is that okay?" She asked.

"Of course, I won't be long."

She turned to begin digging in her suitcase and he knew that was his cue to leave. He closed her door behind him and headed out to the store.

* * *

He stood in line at the check out and glaced at his watch, he'd been gone thirty minutes. He realized he was counting time away from her and mentally scolded himself. He placed his items on the belt and the cashier smiled at him, flashing pretty white teeth.

"Morning Father." She said cheerily.

"Good morning my child." He pulled out his wallet.

"The total is twenty six, thirty three." She smiled.

"Keep the change." He said handing her thirty bucks.

"Thank you." She popped her gum.

He winced, there was nothing he hated more than a pretty young girl with apalling manners. The kind that popped their gum in public. He grabbed his paper bag and rushed from the store, eager to get back to his guest.

He was crossing the parking lot when he saw a woman waving, he paused and realized she attended his church regularly. He considered walking away but as she drew closer he knew he couldn't do that to a patron. So, he put on a smile as she began to ramble about her granchildren in Iowa and the weather, how terrible the world was and how great his preaching had become.

"You're truly one of the most talented preists." She beamed.

"Thank you, I try my best."

"Oh, no doubt you'll make pope on this track."

"That would be nice one day." He said.

"Well, I best let you go." The eldery woman said.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, may God bless your day."

"and yours father." She said.

* * *

He walked back into the building and began searching for Helga. He went into the kitchen first and put his groceries on the table, then he moved down the hall.

"Helga?"He called, his voice echoing and getting no reply.

He pushed open her bedroom door and found her room empty and he frowned wondering where she could be. Heading back down the hall he passed the bathroom, he noticed the door was slightly open. Steam came from the opening and it was then he heard the running shower. He froze outside the door, knowing he should walk away now. He took a deep breath and against his better judgement nudged the door open a little further. Behind the white curtain and through the steam he could see a perfect hourglass silloutte.

His mouth suddenly went dry and he felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach, she was beautiful. He backed away on shaky legs until his back pressed against the concrete wall on the opposite side of the door. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the water pouring over her body and trying not to imagine what that image would look like. He heard her sigh softly in contentmant and he let out a strangled moan. This was torture, God was torturing him.

He heard the shower shut off and with effort pushed to his feet moving slightly away from the door. She slid the curtain back and before he could glimpse her creamy white flesh he turned away and forced himself down the hall. He moved into the church, surrounded by crucifixes and angels he fell to his knees at the alter and prayed harder than a dying man, that God would give him strength.

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